


What's It Feel Like to Be a Ghost?

by Fitzsimmonshield (fitzsimmonsshield)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AOS, AU, Agents of SHIELD, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Divergent, Dark, F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, Framework, Self Control, Spoilers, mcu - Freeform, post 4x15, tfsn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 14:05:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9902075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fitzsimmonsshield/pseuds/Fitzsimmonshield
Summary: Jemma and Daisy have now joined the Framework and are tasked with waking their fellow Shield agents up to fight against Aida. From the very beginning, Jemma realizes this world is very different and there are more factors at play then just getting to her team to save them.4x15 Self Control SpoilersChapter titles are all pop punk/emo songs/lyrics from my glory days. :D





	1. From the Earth to the Morgue

**Author's Note:**

> Picks up right where 4x15 leaves off. 
> 
> If you know what the lyrics/song is for the chapter title, kudos to you!

Jemma’s eyes flung open and she was met with the unsettling realization of complete darkness, followed by the sense that she couldn’t breathe. She struggled for a moment to get air, and soon she was inflating her lungs with the thin air. She wondered if she was even still in her body, not being able to see it in the complete darkness. But she could feel it, and when she recognized she had control, she lifted her hands out to try and physically define her surroundings. Only lifting her arms a few inches in front of her and she felt the hard barrier of wood. She moved her hands out to the sides and was once again met with the interior of a box. Despair descended over her, and she began to realize where she was.

While Daisy and Jemma had figured out geographically where they were in the Framework, they had no knowledge of where their feet would land. Jemma’s just so happened to be six feet under. 

Instead of panicking, she forced herself to clear her mind and think scientifically about this predicament. She calculated how much air she may have left and what were the schematics of most coffins. She slowed her breathing, concentrating on the meditative technique May had once shown her. Her fingers grazed up and down the sides to find the hinges and once she had made a map of the box in her mind, she considered what those six feet between her and surviving would be life. 

Jemma worked the sweater she had on off, contorting slowly inside the box to conserve movement and breath. The heat in the box caused her skin to perspire. With shaking hands, she tied her sweater into a knotted bunch. She placed her head through one of the arm holes and placed the knotted end in her mouth. For a moment she lay still, contemplating her next chain of actions. She took a large gasp of breath.

Then Jemma Simmons got to work. 

In the next moment, Jemma mustered her strength and banged on the coffin with her feet and hands. She did this for a few moments on a single breath and felt like she was getting nowhere until she could hear a crack. In the dark, she repositioned her hands on a hairline crack just beginning to form. She refocused all of her energy at this one spot until she could feel a clump of cool soil seep in through the crack. 

Elated, she took another gasp of breath and shut her eyes firmly. Jemma lifted her back off the coffin floor as much as she could. She used her knees to pound at the crack, with more dirt falling on her abdomen. With her hands, she began ripping at the coffin, breaking off the wood closer and closer to her face. 

At first the soil trickled in, but as the lid opened up more, she positioned herself directly underneath it, allowing the incoming soil to fill where she had just been laying. Knowing her window of time to get out was now extremely short, she took in her last breath. Jemma carefully worked her way up to sitting on her knees, her shoulders and face completely enveloped in the dirt. She could feel the jagged edges of wood catch on her clothing and open up her skin. She pushed the pain to the back of her mind.

With the weight of the soil beginning to crush on her chest, she folded her feet under her, and wedged her way into a standing position.

Now the real work would begin she thought. She brought her arms to her face and then above her head and worked on pushing the soil below her, scooping it out of the way. Her feet pumped, barely making a headway. A vivid memory poured into her mind causing her to think about the first time she nearly died.

_You’re a better swimmer, anyway._

The sound of Fitz’ voice resounding in her head startled her. With her aching limbs and and the air running out in her lungs, she pushed herself harder. Pumping her legs and removing the soil from her trajector, it looked an awful lot like swimming. After what seemed like an eternity, Jemma’s hand punched through the soil and was met with the cool breeze of a fall day. She brought her other hand up to the surface and anchored her fingers in the grass. With her hands planted, she used her arms to pull her entire body weight and the weight of the soil up. She could feel the sun hit her face, and as soon as her mouth was above ground, she spat out the blazer and inhaled sharply. Once fully out, she crawled her way to the side, lying flat on her stomach and enjoying the crispness of the air and the smell of grass. She slowly opened her eyes, blinking furiously at the brightness and the dirt that moved over her eyes. 

After a few minutes of rest, Jemma slowly lifted herself off the ground, her arms shaking. She brushed off some of the dirt off herself, picked off a few creepy crawlies and tore off strips of the blazer for a makeshift tourniquet of the large scrapes she had on both arms. After shaking out her hair, she fully assessed her surroundings. She was surrounded by headstones, and the one nearest to her was her own. There were fresh flowers recently laid beside the stone, but now caving into the hole she wormed herself out of. Moving slowly, she crawled her way over to her headstone, looking over the dates and the writing. She swept some leaves off the stone. It was strange to be looking at her own grave marker.

Her eyes passed from the grave to the flowers, their bright colors popping amidst the autumnal palette. She picked the bouquet up and examined them close to her face that the aroma filled her senses with their saccharine smell. As she dipped her hand to take out a rose, she noticed a small note tucked within the stems. She reached for the note instead. 

_Miss you more and more - Fitz_


	2. Greener with the Scenery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma has made it out, but without food, money or a place to go she is limited in options.

Jemma stuffed the note inside her pants pocket and made her way over to the exit of the cemetery. She knew it looked back to becoming out of a cemetery covered in dirt, so she needed to get as far as possible away from here and find a public bathroom and even harder, a public telephone. She has no identification on her, no money and no idea of the very strange world she had stepped into. She hoped that Daisy was faring better in her Framework life. 

It took a couple blocks and dark alleyway decisions for Jemma to find a park with a public restroom. She didn’t see too many people on her walk and was glad that whenever she did, she could easily duck under some shade which would grant her some cover. There was one other person in the bathroom, in the stall, and Jemma waited in another stall until that person finished up. Afterwards, Jemma got to work on washing off as much of the dirt off her bare arms and shaking out her clothes. The soapy water stung once she worked on cleaning the scrapes on her arms. She took a break when someone else came in and hid in a stall once again. Once they left, she resumed her cleaning ritual, sticking her head under the faucet to shake out some of the dirt in her hair. She knew with night approaching she would need to locate Daisy.

Once she was washed up as much as she possibly could get herself, she set out again to look for a public payphone. She walked for a few more blocks before giving up. Instead, she hit the nearest restaurant and lied about being in an accident and needing to use the phone since hers had broken. The hostess at first protested, but seeing the disheveled state she was in, let Jemma use the phone in a back room, away from customers to see. 

Jemma called the operator and requested to speak with ‘Daisy Johnson.’ There were no Daisy Johnson listings. Defeated, she hung up. What could Daisy be under.

 _Skye_ , she thought, picking the phone up again. 

‘Skye Johnson,’ Jemma said to the operator. The line cut out and Jemma heard the glorious sounds of ringing.

“Hello?’ Daisy said. Jemma laughed with relief.

“Daisy! Daisy, gosh I am so glad to hear your voice!” she exclaimed. Her eyes began to well up.

“J-, thank goodness! This is so strange,” Daisy lowered her voice over the phone.

“I know, tell me about it. Listen, where are you, I need a shower.” Jemma said the first thing that came to mind.

“I’m, uh, at work,” she responded flatly.

“I _really_ need you,” Jemma repeated with concern.

“Okay, I’ll try and leave early,” she added, sensing the desperation in Jemma’s voice.

“Can you pick me up, I’m by the Culver City Park. Please, it’s pretty urgent,” Jemma’s voice continued to waiver.

“Okay, I’ll be there in an hour, give or take with LA traffic,” Daisy responded.

Jemma said her goodbyes and placed the receiver back down. She looked around the office she was in and found a water bottle. Not caring that it was already opened, she unscrewed the cap and drank until it was empty. After tossing it in the trash, she exited the office, thanked the hostess for her help, and left to sit in front of the park.

Jemma kept to the shade, not wanting to bring attention to herself. But it was hard not to, trying to stifle her tears. She couldn’t process that in the Framework she was supposed to be dead. She wondered what it meant for an ideal life, for her? For Fitz? 

A little over an hour later, Jemma noticed a car driving by the park slowly. It vanished before returning again. Jemma stepped out of the shadows to get a better look, and sure enough it was Daisy.

Relieved, she worked on catching her attention, to which Daisy slammed on her breaks. It was odd to see Daisy driving a powder blue Prius, but, Jemma was trying to just accept things in the Framework as they were.

Jemma entered the car and immediately apologized for her uncleanliness. 

“Not a big deal considering what the hell is going on here,” Daisy responded.

“You have no idea,” Jemma said, reaching for the seat belt. 

“I work for Hydra and I’m dating Ward.” Daisy deadpanned.

“I’m dead.”


	3. All That I've Got

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Jemma is able to track down Daisy, it becomes evident that the battle continues to be uphill.

Jemma regaled the tale on waking up in complete darkness and realizing how in trouble she was on the ride to Daisy’s apartment. Daisy was mystified by the story and only added in how she woke up taking a bath and thinking that she was living with Lincoln and how that ended up being far from the case. They agreed that the Darkhold must have had some strange sway on what it deemed a perfect life for the Framework inhabitants. It made Jemma feel a little bit better. 

While Jemma showered, Daisy set out some fresh clothes for her and did some online searching about Jemma’s previous life here. She answered texts from Ward, who inquired about why she went home early from work.

Jemma took a long shower, the hot water washing away the leftover dirt and cleaning out her gashes. She was reminded of the first shower she took after coming back from Maveth, except this one was a lot more pleasant without the PTSD. It took a long time before she felt clean.

Once Jemma finished, she changed into the clothes Daisy picked out, a basic tee and jeans combination. She joined Daisy in her living room to see what she had found out.

“This isn’t good,” Daisy said, scrolling through web pages.

“What do you mean?” Jemma asked, sitting down next to her with a hair brush. Getting out the knots in her hair was going to be exhausting.

“In this Framework 'reality', I’m Skye, which you already know... I was at your funeral, which means, Ward was at your funeral, which means you can’t stay here, because Ward believes you to be dead and if you are standing in the living room he’s going to freak out. And this is where it unfortunately gets worse. You died because you couldn’t be saved from the Chitauri virus. You came up with the anti-virus and when Ward injected you with it, the virus had already worked its course on your system and you died before you guys hit the water. That’s why your body is intact... luckily.” Daisy explained, pulling up news articles to show Jemma about her death. Jemma read the headline, but didn’t move past that.

“And what happened to Fitz? Why are you in Hydra?” Jemma egged her on, eager to piece together the puzzle as much as possible. 

“Fitz left Shield after you died. Instead of SHIELD falling because of Hydra, SHIELD fell because Fury was exposed with some fucked up shit. Shield collapsed. So Hydra rose up, and Ward, May and I made the switch. May is second in command at the Triskelion. And, as far as I know, Coulson disavowed during the fall. I also haven’t found out were Mack or Mace are so it will take a little extra to find them.” Daisy had spent most of her day trying to research everything.

Jemma placed the hairbrush down on the coffee table.

“And Fitz,” Jemma asked, turning the conversation back to him. Jemma deduced at this point she had been dead for a couple years. She wanted to make sure he was okay, that he didn’t shut himself in.

Letting out a sigh, Daisy’s fingers moved over the keyboard. She didn’t need to put in half of his name to get the answer. Fitz was all over the place.

“Leopold Fitz to take over father’s company, renaming it Junction Engineering Mechanics,” Daisy read the first headline that popped up.

Jemma grabbed the laptop off of Daisy’s lap in a snap, quickly reading through. She scrolled down the page until a picture of Fitz was featured. He was well-groomed in a handsomely-tailored suit. Her breath hitched, looking at him, forgetting the current predicaments. But to her horror, a slender arm was curled around his. And the face it belonged to, dredged up anger in the pit of Jemma’s stomach.

“Aida is in here?” Jemma looked back at Daisy, who responded with a curt nod.

She took the laptop back from Jemma and closed it.

“Ward will be home from work soon. We need to get you out. I’[ll hook you up with money, clothes and a burner phone, okay. Will you be okay Jemma?” Daisy stood up, but didn’t moved. She looked down at Jemma sitting on the couch, her elbows perched on her knees and her forehead nestled into her palm. 

“I don’t have to be okay, I just have to save him,” Jemma said.. She took another moment, passing her fingers across her forehead before joining Daisy. Daisy moved from the living room to find a backpack for Jemma and stuffed it with some necessities she found around the apartment. The apartment was still foreign to her, she didn’t know where everything was yet it had all the flourishes of her living there. 

Jemma helped put together the backpack and the two exited the apartment. Daisy first stopped at the bank to take out a serious amount of cash for Jemma to have. The next stop on their list was to get her a burner phone and her own tablet.

“I’ll work on setting up an alias for you. In the meantime, stay out of sight, keep a low profile and do not use your name. We don’t know what this Hydra-world is all about yet,” Daisy said to Jemma as they walked out of the electronics store. 

Jemma didn’t respond but turned over the burner phone in her hands, it was empty except for Daisy’s phone number. Daisy continued speaking but the words didn’t resonate over her until Daisy pulled her into a hug.

“There’s a motel a few blocks away with vacancies, I can drop you off-,” Daisy said, holding Jemma an arm’s length away.

Jemma shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind the walk, it will give me some time to think.”

Daisy offered a look of reluctance before leaving her on the sidewalk. Jemma watched as Daisy pulled out of the parking spot and left before making her way down the road. The sun was nearly completely set by the time she reached the motel. She paid in cash at the front desk, gave a fake name and plopped down onto the bed without much thought into the condition of the room. Her muscles throbbed and her arms felt on fire. Her chest felt heavy and congested, and despite the hunger, Jemma’s eyes closed for a much needed sleep.


	4. Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma is launched into full research mode but begins to become weary given the current climate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a drag of a chapter, I know, but some important info for later on :)

When Jemma woke the next morning, the darkness of the room fooled her briefly into thinking she had woken up in the coffin again. Sending her into a panic, she sprung from the bed and was delighted to see the outlines of shabby motel furniture silhouetted in the darkness. She crossed the room, lamenting in the pain in her limbs, to open the blinds and turn on the light. The sunlight helped ease her mind and she was thankful for it, briefly reminded of the time she went without it for six months.

After admiring the soft early morning glow in the sky, Jemma freshened up in the bathroom and fished out a protein bar she had picked up along her errands with Daisy the day before. She sat down on the edge of the bed and booted up the tablet, immediately finding a weak internet connection. She quickly pulled up a search engine and typed in Fitz name. Instead of getting the same recent news story Daisy had gotten yesterday, there was a new one.

_Billionaire Leopold Fitz Offers Reward for Best Friend Graverobbing Culprit_

The news story had been posted not more than five minutes ago. Jemma clicked into it and was met with crime scene photos of the grave she crawled out from yesterday. She read:

_Junction-Engineering Mechanics CEO Dr. Leopold Fitz announced early this morning that he would be offering a $10,000 reward for any information on the graverobber(s) of his best friends grave. Los Angeles Police Chief Jeffrey Mace said the robbed grave was discovered by the cemetery’s groundskeeper._

_“It appears that sometime between early yesterday morning and today that the grave of one Jemma Simmons was broken into and her body appears to have been removed. My detectives are on the case and will find and return the body to its rightful place. You can trust me on their triumph.” Chief Mace said in a press release._

_Dr. Fitz has rarely spoken publicly about his late friend Jemma Simmons but has cited her in the past as his motivation to join his father's company. It was recently announced he would be taking over Advanced BioMechanics from his father, Dr. Robert Fitz. In his press statement, the billionaire philanthropist mentioned how the name change was a nod to Ms. Simmons who had helped shape his career (Junction-Engineering Mechanics’ stock ticker is JEM). Dr. Simmons died after a contracting a Chitauri virus. It is known that while she found the vaccine to cure the virus, it was too late for her own demise. Dr. Simmons posthumously received a Nobel Peace Prize for her vaccination discovery._

Jemma’s initial reaction was to scoff at the so-called journalists use of ‘vaccine’ when it should have been written down as antiserum. After her mild annoyance passed, she reread the news story to gather in all the information. She would have to send word to Daisy that Mace had just been revealed if she didn’t already know. And, she had a Nobel Peace Prize. The ends of Jemma’s mouth lifted, delighted in the thought. Even if it wasn’t real, per say, it still felt nice to be acknowledged. 

Fitz and Jemma had conversations dating back all the way to the Academy about science honors. Jemma wanted to cure diseases and injuries. Fitz wanted to shield and protect people from harm. Back in those days their wants and desires had been so simple. Then they grew up and got swept up by the enchanting lifestyle of field agents, something they had never planned.

And here she was now, trapped in one of partially-responsible-Fitz’ inventions, where her own story here ended up tragically short but… brilliant. Although macabre to think of one’s own death, Jemma’s shoulders eased as her mind drifted into thoughts of accomplishments. 

Her feelings of attainment were shuffled out when a ping emitted from the tablet roused her from spacing out. She refocused on the screen and read the news brief notification that had popped onto the screen.

_Police Chief Mace releases footage of woman wanted in connection with grave robbery._

Without hesitating, she tapped the notification to pull up the footage. When the video loaded, grainy footage of her walking just a block away from the cemetery started playing. There weren’t any clear shots of her face, but Jemma knew it wouldn’t be long until more footage was found or someone had seen her. Sighing, she pulled up a map on the device, checked off a location. Jemma turned off the tablet, and stuffed it into the backpack. She pulled out a black hoodie Daisy had lent her and pulled it over, making sure she tucked in her hair. She was just going out to get some food. She closed the blinds tight, turned the lights off, and slipped on a pair of shoes that were just a bit too small for her feet.

Jemma walked outside in a rushed pace, but tried to appear no different from other people on their way to work. She kept her head tilted downward and once again tried to find the shadows on the sidewalk. It was a few minutes until she reached the grocery store that she had looked up before leaving the motel room. She gathered herself a cart and focused on grabbing mostly on non-perishable and microwavable food. The selection was slim pickings and Jemma felt she hadn’t eaten this nutritiously atrociously since the last finals week at the Academy. While the food tasted terrible on Maveth, at least there was some nutritional value to it.

Pop tarts, ramen, tea, a reusable water bottle, a first aid kit, cheap sunglasses were all tossed inside of her cart. She silently groaned during check out, and as soon as the sunglasses were scanned, she ripped off the tag to put them on. The clerk, an unphased teenager, considered scanning her cart items. Jemma double bagged and paid in cash and trekked back to the motel. By the end of her walk, her arms once again seared in pain. She tore off the hoodies and saw a few of her cuts had opened up. Not wasting a moment, she gently applied antibacterial ointment that came with the first aid kit. 

After grabbing some ice from the motel’s supply in her reusable bottle, Jemma sat back down on her bed and voraciously tore into a package of pop tarts. Despite the hunger that ached, she ate them slowly, savoring in the sugar and minimal sustenance. She returned to the tablet to see if there had been any developments in the hour she had been out.

Fortunately, there was nothing. And there were no texts from Daisy on the burner phone. Jemma made the move and texted Daisy about Mace. 

_It’s not a good time to talk Mrs. Crawford._

Daisy texted back. In their scheming yesterday they devised that Daisy would refer to Jemma as Mrs. Crawford. Mrs. Crawford happened to be a really old senile lady that lived down the hallway from Daisy and Ward’s apartment. Daisy found out quite quickly the woman was a handful.

Dismayed, Jemma turned on the TV in the room and continued researching the life Framework created for Leopold Fitz.


	5. Bored to Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma wallows away in loneliness with no headway into saving everyone in the Framework.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna try and get out as many chapters as I can this week before the Switch comes out!

Two days went by before Jemma heard anything from Daisy. It was two whole days of Jemma cooped up in a dilapidated motel room with spotty wifi, crappy microwave food and very little outside contact. Jemma would occasionally pop out of her room to continue paying for her room or grabbing ice. She kept to herself, kept quiet, and spent her time handwashing the couple of clothes Daisy had supplied her with and checking the tablet for updates. There had been no news updates concerning the search for Jemma’s ‘graverobbing,’ and she wasn’t sure to read that as a positive or negative side.

Daisy’s message came a bit cryptic. At first she texted, _‘hey, what ya doing tonight?’_

Jemma hesitated to respond, despite desperately wanting to talk to someone. After five minutes of contemplating, Daisy called.

 _“Hey, I’ll pick you up tonight. Deep cover okay?”_ Daisy spoke softly into the receiver.  
All Jemma could answer was ‘yes’ before Daisy ended the call. It was strange and left her feeling even more nervous. She ran a warm bath, made some tea in the microwave and brought the tablet with her as she soaked to straighten her thoughts. Daisy’s radio silence had raised some flags for Jemma. She knew Daisy was riding a fine line with sneaking around behind Ward, an experienced spy’s back. And the laws of this Framework world may work differently than their real counterpart.

In the bath, Jemma perused on the tablet, going over the information she had learned about Fitz. Ever since her death he worked under his father’s company. That fact alone shocked her. He was for the most part a recluse, but there were paparazzi pictures of him on yachts, other girls on his arm and photos of him stumbling out of exclusive clubs looking rather drunk. It didn’t seem like Fitz but it was also him through and through. He owned a pet monkey apparently. His company specialized in non-lethal weapons and he had opened up a medical wing just devoted to advancing treatments. He named the wing after her. She was all over his post-Jemma life in a way that she would be with him forever. It was haunting to see the pictures of him with other women, especially because only a few days prior had they talked about marriage. Sure, it was the LMD version of Fitz, but he had Fitz’ mind. To go from thinking about marriage to seeing him as a playboy was jarring.

LMD Fitz had promised Jemma that they would be together forever in the Framework. 

That wasn’t the case and she just couldn’t figure out why.

Jemma placed the tablet on the closed toilet lid next to the bath, and gradually slunk herself under the water, holding her breath. Her hand clutched the side of the tub and her other pawed the wall. Holding herself under, she let out a scream, the bubbles bursting at the surface. When her last breath was expelled, she came back up, wiped the water out of her eyes and reached over to drain the tub. She stood up and rinsed herself off in the shower.

Jemma didn’t know when or where exactly she was to meet Daisy for the pick up, so she got ready early, this time opting for the black jeans and matching black t-shirt that she had available. It was around 9 pm before Daisy appeared, driving in front the motel slowly. Jemma could see the car, different from the last one she had been driving, pass through the lot a few times. Once she could confirm it was Daisy driving, she slipped out of her room and waited on the sidewalk for her to come around again.

Jemma got in the car quickly, and Daisy did not let a moment pass before peeling off from the curb.

“Sorry, things haven’t been going so good for the past two days. Framework Ward is a shitty human being too and I’ve been working hard to cover all my tracks. We’re going to a bar to talk, I have more cash and supplies for you. We need to be extra careful since Mace is pretty much hunting you. Granted Fitz put a huge amount of reward money up to anyone with information about your grave.” Daisy spoke fast.  
“He did?” Jemma asked, connecting her seatbelt.

“Yeah, I saw him yesterday,” Daisy responded, her voice flat.

“Oh,” Jemma responded, her mouth stayed open, wanting to ask more but not sure how that would sound.

“I was flown out for a job in DC - at the Triskelion. May requested me personally to ensure lines of communication stayed hacker-free while her and Fitz had a meeting. Fitz is opening a contract with Hydra for a line of weapons from what I gather. I saw them both. May...smiled at me...but didn’t say much. I know she’s married to Andrew here in the Framework. Fitz seemed incredibly reserved. It reminded me of how he was after the pod accident. Just quiet and very into himself, like he was deep in thought. He asked how I was doing, how Ward was doing, and I told him just fine. I asked him how he was doing, especially considering the investigation and he told me that he was putting up a reward and if I wanted to help since I have the skills. Thankfully Aida wasn’t with him.”

Daisy drove on main roads and as if she was taking her driver’s test. Jemma assumed to avoid suspicion. She cringed at the mentioning of Aida.

“Oh,” was all Jemma could stammer out. There was an uncomfortable length of silence growing between them as Daisy obeyed traffic laws.

“I just don’t get how this Framework works, weren’t we supposed to have good lives here like the LMDs said?” Jemma broke, her voice following after.

Daisy didn’t respond. Jemma continued, the words spilling out of her mouth “You got stuck with Ward and working for Hydra, I don’t even exist… I mean… if that is the best possible outcome of our lives, that means Fitz is better off without me.” 

Daisy turned into a parking lot and picked an open spot. She shifted to park before addressing Jemma who now stared at the hands in her lap.   
“This has to be the Darkhold’s imaginings. Fitz is miserable, miserable. I’m lobbed with a man who is even a shade of his ‘best’ self. Ward is bland, like he’s just created from the memories of the people in the Framework. I woke up in a bathtub and walked into the bedroom and I thought it was going to for sure be Lincoln. And it wasn’t. May is practically the head of Hydra which would be her ultimate fear. We have no idea what Mack and Coulson are up to. And Mace is a divorced alcoholic in this world. This isn’t ideal, this is -”

Jemma cut Daisy off.

“Punishment.”


	6. Ain't It Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daisy and Jemma get distracted by hunger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Been busy with the Nintendo Switch coming out. I'm also planning a big surprise party for someone in a few weeks so that is tying up my time too.

Daisy unbuckled herself in the silence following Jemma’s revelation.

“Well, think of it Daisy. We are the ones capable of shutting Aida, the LMDs and the Framework down. If we’re here, we’re not a threat. Or at least if we’re not conscious that this isn’t real, we can’t be a threat. Radcliffe gave it the clause that it can’t harm us, right? But maybe that only applies to direct harm. Our physical bodies will eventually deteriorate but to Aida’s logic, our sentience will still exist. Aida figures it won’t actually be killing us if we live on in here. Aida can’t understand what a soul is unless it has one,” Jemma said.

“So, do you think the Darkhold is helping Aida get a soul?” Daisy responded.

Before Jemma could respond, she was intercepted by the loud grumble of her stomach. 

Daisy stared at her. Jemma froze.

The two women erupted in laughter. Jemma was wiping away a tear in the corner of her eye before anyone made a comment. The concentration of the moment was broken and Jemma’s train of thought had dissipated.

“Talk about realistic,” Jemma stammered between laughs.

“Alright, let’s get you a hamburger,” Daisy pulled open the door, a smile still plastered to her face. It was the best she had felt since getting sucked into this crazy mess.

The two walked into the dive bar. There were enough people there where the newcomers weren’t even looked at. Rock music blasted at an above average sound. Daisy lead them over to a free high top table. A waiter was not far behind with menus and an early drink order.

After he left, Daisy remarked, “I used to come here all the time with a couple Rising Tide people.”   
She looked around, admiring the punk inspired decor. Old gig posters plastered the walls, along with stickers and sharpie graffiti. There were barely any bits of wallpaper left to see. Jemma followed in examining the bar. She then turned her attention to ordering the most ridiculous burger,

The waiter soon came around with two beers and took their food orders. Jemma was careful not to make eye contact, staying close to the wall, she didn’t want to be recognized.

The beer tasted like heaven to Jemma. After taking a sip and then another, she stared at the amber contents within. Inquisitive about the molecular structure of something that wasn’t really real. She wondered if it was partly bad on how her mind projected it to be or if there had been coding that that ensured to get every food items taste. Fitz would know. 

The thought of him, missing him, took her down a notch in what was shaping up to be a better evening. Jemma didn’t answer many of Daisy’s with long answers until the food arrived. With that, conversation ceased until they were almost done with the meals.

“I’ll work on finding Coulson and Mack, and you need to figure out how to get everyone to believe what is going on. But…,” Daisy ended with a hint of reservation in her voice, “we need to be more discreet... I’m convinced Ward will think I’m up to something if I’m acting too clandestine,” Daisy said, polishing off the last of her fries.

“It is spywork,” Jemma confirmed.

“Yeah, but even to get an excuse to get out of the apartment for tonight was like jumping through hoops. And, the longer I stay here in the Framework, the more I feel pressured to, uh, be a physical couple?” Daisy tried to dance around her uneasiness about the situation.

“You’ve been making excuses?” Jemma asked, concern growing in her voice.

“UTI. But I did request to be put on temporary assignment at the Triskelion. Hopefully it’ll be accepted and I’ll be out of town for a few days if we need the time,” Daisy explained.

“But you’ll need to come back should I convince everyone we’re here. We’ll need to get to the exit immediately,” Jemma said.

“And that’s why it is a good thing I’ll be with May. She’s been in here the longest. I have to convince her,” Daisy moved the utensils on her plate.

It concerned Jemma that Daisy was in the hands of the two spies that were responsible for training her. Ward was a master of deception and May could bury any secret for it to never be found. Not to mention, they were both people of their words, and if Daisy raised enough suspicion, they may take it in their own hands to admonish her.

“We’ll get another round of beers since I know you are probably stir crazy in that room, and then I have to get back. I have a couple drop boxes throughout the city should you burn through the money, I set them up with scientific answers you could answer in your sleep. All of that and some supplies are in my trunk. And yeah, there’s beer and vodka too.” Daisy added.

Jemma nodded and awaited the next round of beers. She kept her eyes glued to the floor, casting a short gaze to not meet anyone in the eyes. She was a wanted woman after all.

Daisy helped carry in the supplies to Jemma’s motel room. All of it was really handy stuff. Soap, shampoo, lots of snacks and microwaveable food. Jemma was exceptionally grateful for the beer. Daisy included extra clothes and some other hygiene products. 

“I’ll see you when I see you,” Daisy offered Jemma a promising smile. Jemma tried to return it, but reluctance had fully set in. 

After Daisy left, Jemma logged in on the tablet to check if there had been any news when they were out. There was. Interestingly, it was the announcement of a joint press conference held between Hydra and Fitz’ company, fitting with what Daisy had told her. Jemma set an alarm not to miss the East Coast timing. 

Jemma decided to take a slightly different approach to researching Mack and Coulson. She first looked up information about Mack’s brother and found info without a problem. He was featured as a valedictorian in high school from a news article a few years back. Mack smiled in a picture with his brother, a beautiful woman hugging his side. The caption below the picture had their names.

Jemma cracked open a beer before searching the woman’s name. She found her no problem on social media. Her status was married and there were pictures of her, Mack, and a little girl.

It resonated to Jemma that Mack had a family here. He was happy. He wasn’t in SHIELD (or Hydra) and he wasn’t losing his friends. He had a beautiful, intelligent wife, and darling little girl. The further Jemma dug, the more she found that he owned his own body shop, fixed antique motorcycles for fun. No guns, not weapons, but also no Yo-Yo. Jemma finished the beer, wondering if they were really happier here.


	7. All That I'm Living For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma has reasons to be paranoid, and some of the puzzle solves itself.

Jemma was startled awake by the shrill disturbing screeches of the motel room’s alarm clock. She lifted from the bed in a hurry, her heart already beset with anxious palpitations. She had drifted off to sleep some time during her research. The beer on her nightstand was only half drunk.

She found the use of her legs to stretch her across the bed to shut the alarm off and drew back into the pillows. Already wide awake, she stared at the yellow-stained ceiling for a moment before rushing back up to turn on the tablet to watch the news conference.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t shut down the tablet the night before and the screen blinked the signage of a red battery before succumbing to black. She hurried across the room to the desk, haphazardly strewn with notes and receipts and other random objects to plug in the device. After a few moments of waiting, it sprang to life. She tapped quickly away to get herself on a stream, where the news conference was luckily just beginning. Fitz was just being introduced.

He stepped up to the podium without a smile. He was looking downward, arranging the papers before staring off into the middle ground. The audio picked up the clicks of cameras and scribbling of pen on paper from the journalists. He wore the same long black overcoat she had seen him wearing the other day in the press conference about her robbed grave. He cleared his throat before speaking, first reading from the script provided and then veering off.

“Good morning all of you here today. I am here to announce the joint venture my company and the Hydra organization are about to embark on. With both of our institutions committed to the advancement of science and its everyday uses in health care, technology, less lethal weaponry and other applications, it seemed a natural fit to announce today that we will be opening a facility in Perthshire for research and development. I met a few days ago with Assistant Director Melinda May from Hydra to establish our shared goals in maintaining the peace and civility we strive for in our own ways. This facility will be the first of its kind for many reasons which will be available in the press release. With science as our fuel, we endeavor to bridge the world of dreams today to a world that can make those possibilities attainable. I will now briefly take some questions before passing the mic to our press secretary.”

Jemma watched as a flurry of questions were pelted at him. He nodded, taking them in, before gently raising his hand. The press ring silenced.

“If we can do so by raising our hands, it would help for me to listen to one person at a time,” he added.

The reporters silently fell into a hand-raising frenzy before Fitz called on one who asked for more details. He once again reiterated that the press release would contain more detail about the kind of work both institutions would be working on.

The next question, ignored the developing story of the partnership, and instead asked about the grave robbery.

“Dr. Fitz, do you have any comments about the new video that surfaced this morning on the alleged suspect in the graverobbing?”

It caught him off guard, feeding the crowd’s suspicious that he didn’t know of this. And neither did Jemma.

“No, I have not at the time but remind you I am actively working with the LAPD Chief Mace on this case.” 

With the curt statement, Fitz gestured to a man in a suit behind him, who came up to the podium instead. 

“Dr. Fitz will no longer be taking questions,” he announced. Fitz had backed away and slipped out of sight. The secretary began taking questions, skipping over ones about the investigation, it prompted Jemma to zone out. She left the tablet on as she stepped into the shower, pulling her out of the morning daze. Jemma wasn’t interested in the merger or the events happening inside the Framework. She reminded herself that this was all temporary and had no bearings on the real world that waited for them. The longer they remained here, the closer they inched to death.

Once out of the shower and dressed, Jemma crossed across the motel room to open the blinds a bit. Some natural light would work wonders for her mind. She started to draw the blinds back but then noticed a tinted window car across the lot, directly facing her room. The windows were so blacked out that she could not even see through the windshield. 

After initially processing what she should do in this situation, Jemma looked briefly around and then closed the blinds, trying to make this action look as normal as possible. She wandered over to the bed in a daze, sitting on it and beginning to wonder how to shake her tail. She could no longer stay here, however, if she left, she would either be captured of followed.

She knew she wasn’t supposed to text Daisy, but this was an emergency. She bolted from the bed to grab her phone, furiously texting an SOS to the only contact she had.

Daisy responded right away, _heading into a meeting, sorry._

Frustrated, Jemma threw the phone onto the bed and began packing up all the belongings she could fit. Most of what she had to shed was the food. After ensuring the room bared no remnants of her, other than the shed products, she looked around for something she could use as a weapon. The shower rod was too long for her to wield, and she knew dismantling the pipes for the sink would spell disaster. She balked at the fact that there was no fire extinguisher as she had become quite good at wielding those. She thought she had run out of all options before her eyes set upon the standing lamp in the corner of the room. In a closer inspection, the lamp was comprised of three metal rods screwed together to house the wires. She got to work dismantling it, shoving one in a side strap of her backpack. The shortest rod of the three was able to fit in the interior jacket pocket and would be easy for her to whip out. 

Jemma compiled all of her belongings, dried her sweating palms on her jeans, and took a deep breath before opening the door of her room. She had no idea where she could run to, but she had to at least try. Even in the Framework you couldn’t explain why a dead person was alive again.

Jemma made a right turn out from the door. She kept her head down and one of her hands wrapped around the rod in her jacket. Behind her, she could hear a car door open. 

Before it was slammed shut, she glanced behind, intrigued to know who was coming to get her. She was ready to run.

But, the site of the man, slowly getting out changed her mind. She could recognize the combination of sunglasses and a basic suit from a mile away. 

Phil Coulson calmly closed the door to his car and leaned on it, folding his arms. She slowed in her tracks, watching him, until she stopped. She knew this could be a trap too, but felt compelled to at least have the information of what had become of Coulson in the Framework. Jemma picked up walking again, this time in the direction in the ominous looking car and the gentle smile goading her.


	8. Little Devotional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan begins to emerge.

Jemma was reminded of the message she sent to Daisy an hour ago as her phone buzzed in her back pocket. She was seated in the passenger seat, as Coulson drove down a long stretch of highway, taking her further away from the rendezvous point. 

Just an hour before, Jemma had walked up to him. He smiled and simply said, “I think May and I will have to consider you as a candidate for the previously dead and now come back to life club.”

It was endearing how he used humor to disarm her. Somehow Coulson always had a way of making a bad situation seem a lot better with his somewhat lame jokes. Jemma was easily relaxed and took her hand off the rod in her jacket. Tears demanded attention as they formed at the corners of her eyes. And she erupted into a genuine smile.

“Daisy and I have been looking for you,” she said, stopping just a few feet from him.

Coulson untangled his crossed arms and spread them out to his sides.

“Looks like I’m the one who did the finding,” he stated. Jemma nodded. She needed to make sure she could trust Coulson before going any further.

“How come you don’t find it the least bit odd that I’m alive?” Jemma chose her words carefully.

“Because, I know this is the Framework,” he replied.

Relief washed over her, and she closed the gap to hug him.The hug was cut short when Jemma realized she still had the rod tucked in her jacket and she laughed as she pulled it out, showing Coulson what it was.

“I’m sensing you’ve had a rough time,” he added.

Jemma moved back from him and nodded again. 

“We can never really live simple lives, can we?” her voice carrying a softness to it.

“How about we get you somewhere safe and I can explain how I know we’re in the Framework,” Coulson responded. He turned to open his car door, looking around the area. Jemma crossed over to the other side of the car, placed her bags in the backseat. She settled in the passenger seat, and then they were off.

“So, how do you know we’re in the Framework?” Jemma asked, just a few minutes away from the motel.

“Gotta give a hand to Fitz on that one,” Coulson answered.

“What do you mean?” She questioned.

“He runs diagnostic and adds software to my hand every so often. He sensed that something like this could happen and that I may need a way to tell what’s real or what’s not. The hand is connected to my nervous system and even though I don’t have it here, it lets my physical body know,” he explained.

How clever, Jemma thought, letting another smile grace her. It was followed by a throb of loneliness washing over her mind. 

“Do you know where you are being held in our real world?” she followed up.

“Unfortunately no.”

That wasn’t the answer she hoped to hear, but, it wasn’t something that would help them either. She moved on to her next set of questions.

“So, how did you find me and what is your story in the Framework?” 

Coulson made a noise that sounded like a cross between a sigh and a laugh. His fingers gripped the steering wheel.

“The short version is I split from SHIELD during the collapse, and reinvented myself as a history teacher out in the desert. It’s not a bad gig. I try and teach the kids with a little reverse psychology about why Inhumans aren’t bad and such. I keep a low profile but knew when I saw that footage of you I had to find you. I got to say, I was a little disappointed to find you so easily. It wasn’t hard to track you and Daisy once you left the bar. You should have moved out of that area pronto,” Coulson turned off an exit.

“I stayed close because our way out of the Framework is in Los Angeles,” she defended. 

Coulson stayed silent. They drove for a few minutes more before he turned down a dirt road. It led to a driveway with a modest, and secluded, ranch-style house. Coulson help bring Jemma’s sparse belongings inside and situated her in a beautiful spare bedroom. The house was quintessential Coulson. Neat, orderly, but filled with replicas, historical antiquities and old SHIELD paraphernalia. It didn’t come the least bit surprising that his house was also built with extra fortification. When giving the tour, Coulson also showed her his bunker, remarking how lucky it was that he was able to convert this Cold War nuclear home into its own little base. 

At the end of the tour, he sat Jemma down in the kitchen and prepared for them some lunch and tea. Jemma was struck by how reminiscent this was of her time in actual Hydra. Coulson making drops, Fitz practically hating her for leaving, which was as good as dead in this scenario. She had been too prideful at the time to admit regret, knowing that what she was doing was in good service of her job and the livelihoods of her and her friends, but it hurt the one person it shouldn’t have. 

“I’d love to give you time to decompress, but given each minute ticking away gets us closer to death, what’s your plan?” Coulson said, snapping Jemma out of her train of thought. He placed a dish in front of her and then filled up a mug of tea. 

“Well, it’s kind of plan that you make up as you go along,” she responded, trying to add a shade of hopefulness to the bleak statement.

Coulson wasn’t buying it and pressed her on with a firm look.

“Daisy and I know that we have to wake everyone up. But we first have to get them all to the exit, which is back in Los Angeles. We obviously couldn’t know what our lives would be like once we’re in the system. So, yes, it is proving a little more difficult to gather everyone up. But at least we have you now and Daisy is with May and Fitz in DC, and Mace is in LA and I just found where Mack is…” Jemma prattled off.

“But now it’s a matter of convincing everyone to exit at the same time,” Coulson closed up her conversation.

“Exactly. This isn’t a science problem, it’s strategy. Science I can figure out no problem, but when it comes to motivating others, well, I think I’m better suited elsewhere,” Jemma turned the blame onto herself, casting her eyes downward to look at the plate.

“That’s nonsense,” Coulson said, cutting into his meal. Jemma looked up from her own. Her silence pressured him to continue.

“The past few months, with Mace as Director, you’ve been instrumental in getting everyone together. You’ve really looked out for the team even if it meant fragmenting some other parts of your life. I know that hasn’t been easy, but being in SHIELD has never been easy,” Coulson explained

While the answer should have pacified her thoughts, it only pushed her through with them. _Yes, and there I was again choosing everyone else over Fitz._

She brought a hand to her forehead to try and block Coulson from seeing her face. He could read her in a second and she didn’t want to play therapy anymore. Especially couple’s therapy. She redirected her thoughts to focus on Coulson’s intention. He was building up her confidence because he knew she worked best when she was certain. It’s how she was with science.

Over the course of the meal, the pair worked through ideas on rounding up everyone. At this point, Jemma responded to Daisy that she was safe, with Coulson, and that they had ideas. Daisy immediately called her up.


	9. Brick by Boring Brick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's nearly go time.

The first second Daisy found where she was completely alone, she snuck away to call Jemma. It had been a long day of accompanying May on different meetings. Most of them, Daisy had to stand outside. If this had been the real world, she would have never taken this kind of assignment. At one point during the day, she did see Fitz, followed by Aida. She ducked out of site before Aida could see her, sensing it would just be a bad idea to cross her path.

Jemma picked up and sounded in good spirits, perhaps because her voice was joined by the familiar jovial sounds of Coulson’s. They had spent all afternoon speculating different operations, and had one to show her.

“We’re going to mail you a letter to give to Fitz. When you hand it to him, make it sound like it’s from Coulson, but be discreet. In it, will be a letter from me. It’ll be signed anonymously… and if Framework Fitz ever discovered that he care--loved Framework Simmons, then it should have him calling up his private jet to Los Angeles. As for May…” Jemma’s voice trailed off, only to be picked up by Coulson.

“As for May, well, we’re doing something a little extreme here, but it should gather in Mace too. We’re going to stage an attack on a Hydra facility which is part of May’s division. It will draw her out here, taking you back too. Lucky for you both, I’m also in contact with Mack and have an idea for getting him to come out here,” he added.

“And what if your letter doesn’t work?” Daisy spoke softly, still apprehensive that someone could hear her. She did feel pretty safe in her hotel room.

“Well, then...we’ll just have to kidnap him,” Jemma said. 

“You mean… I will,” Daisy corrected.

“Well yes, a person who is dead really can’t book herself a plane ticket,” Jemma assured.

“You better write a damn good letter,” Daisy added.

Jemma silently agreed but passed over that in conversation. She had an idea of what she was going to write, but communicating in visceral emotion wasn’t really her strong point.

“We’ve now been in the Framework for a week or so, we really need to work fast. Fitz and I did not have time to run the tests on how much our bodies will suffer being under this long. Not too mention, how long May has been under. This isn’t a dream where time has been compounded,” Jemma drilled. 

Jemma could feel the presence of Coulson smiling at her.

“Get to work,” he added, ending the call.

Jemma took that as a hint to grab some paper and hunker down for the rest of the afternoon to get her message across. It was difficult for her to parse what the Framework lives of her and Fitz has been through, especially since much of their emotional development happened after the Chitauri incident. Needing to send this letter out in the morning, Jemma pulled from their experiences in the Academy. She talked about their experiments, their talks about the bigger pictures of life, and ultimately their connection to each other through science. She didn’t sign her name, but at the end of the letter, which was clearly written in her handwriting, she posed Fitz with the greatest mystery he had to solve. If he wanted to know who descerated her grave and had all this information, he needed to be in Los Angeles, at Daisy and hers extablished rendezvous point, for all the answers. She stressed it was important for him to come by himself, although, she doubted he would take that advice since he was one of the richest people in the world who in his line of work had to have made some enemies. She sealed it and Coulson ran it over to the post office before it closed to be sent as a first class mail. It would be on his desk in DC the very next morning. She let Daisy know about the time frame. Fitz would need to be in LA in the afternoon. That means, Coulson has to get Mack and plan an attack on the Hydra facility not too far from the exit point in just the night. It was a lot of work and by the time Jemma and Coulson were finished laying out the plans, it was almost time to get started on carrying them out. The pair had very little rest.

 

Jemma only had two hours of sleep, and in that time she dreamt of Fitz. She could swear she was looking at him through the glass that separated them when she had contracted the Chitauri infection. He was young and curly haired. His eyes staying on her, big and glassy and filled with a familiar yet distant look. The look of a man who loved her very much but had not yet understood it. When Jemma woke up, her hand was perched on her chest, her nails lightly digging in to the skin on the area of her heart.


End file.
